Ewwww

I was watching an episode of Bones today (Episode 6. 'The Man in the Wall' for the benefit of Jane), in which something happened that was so disgusting I had to sign out of MSN after the episode and go and have a glass of water and lie down on my bean bag for a while. It wasn't even something explicitly shown, just talked about, and it even made Dr. Brennan wince.

Nonetheless, what an excellent programme. I am now eating Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey icecream, ultimate cure for squeamishness.

In about fifteen minutes I'm off nextdoor babysitting. Good times.

Forensic Anthropology

due to my general squeamishness and lack of scientific knowledge, would be an appalling career choice for me.
Looks good as the title of a blog post though.

A Letter

Dear Anonymous Person,

You insult me a lot, and it is always quite amusing, like the time you told me I was 'like Giles from Buffy only bossier and therefore like Hermione from Harry Potter only not as pretty,' which was much laughed at afterwards for being the strangest pop-culture insult ever. Or the time you said something weird and slightly perverted about the top I was wearing, and then said 'you should wear it if you ever go on a date.' Thus inventing the Patronising Lesbian Diss Compliment.

However, as people in this particular lesson can apparently tell from my facial expressions, I have just about had enough after nearly seven years of casual put downs. You are someone who has been 'bullied' in the past, and makes it into a massive sob story, and yet just insults people the whole time. I really should have said something back, but none of my immediate comeback ideas were appropriate for a classroom environment.

While I should have been expecting it from the creator of the pop-culture insult and the Patronising Lesbian Diss Compliment (TM), the 'glasses/hair/clothing combo insult' from a permanent glasses-wearer was something else.
Also, please stop trying to make us jealous of your life. It is not really working.

Love from,
Anne

PS: Yeah Laura, that's you told. ;)

Bad and Celebrity Genders

SWED question 2 is a fail, history coursework is a fail, parents are a fail.
Cannot do a ranty blog post about parents because I'll only delete it later when we are once again on speaking terms.

Reverted back to being five when the neighbour came round to thank me for looking after their guinea pig and I was a bit tearful from the parental argument, so my Dad was like 'Anne come down!' and I said 'No, not now!' and hid in my cupboard.

You know, as if the neighbour was going to barge up to my room and demand to thank me in person. Sat in the wardrobe for a while like a very pissed off citizen of Narnia.

In more upbeat news, I spent much of lunchtime explaining to my parents that Taylor Swift is female and Kanye West is male. They thought it was the other way round, but apparently knew the gender of Beyonce. Then the phone rang and I was like 'that'll be Taylor Swift, explaining her gender.'

It wasn't, it was my Granny, but I was giggling weirdly down the phone at her at the thought of Taylor Swift being an eighty-something year old from Pembrokeshire.

UEA

Today I went to UEA (The University of Extreme Awesome.)
The campus itself is an ugly interconnecting network of concrete blocks, which I love in the same way that people love mongrel stray dogs and the little slum children in Slumdog Millionaire.

As usual with universities, my Mum and I made fools out of ourselves by arriving and instantly asking the first person we saw where we could find coffee, then making a Gilmore-style dash in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. She also asked the tour guide whether students were allowed to swim in the lake, the answer to which was a resounding 'no.'

Last time I went to UEA I remember all the food tasting completely gross, but that was probably because I had glandular fever at the time as it all tasted quite nice today. We got given a tour round the room of a guy who was clearly not ready to give a room tour, as he was still in his pyjamas and seemed kind of embarrassed by the half-naked picture of Cheryl Cole on his wall. .

And that was pretty much my day really.

Oh my God, just saw that there's a Gothic Episode of QI on iplayer, with Sue Perkins of 'Supersizers go Wartime' fame. I am incredibly excited.

Further Procrastination

What happened with the English is failing to happen with the History, probably because while I actually know quite a bit about dystopian future books, I know absolutely nothing about the Tet Offensive, so I am procrastinating before I have actually begun.

I went to see Valentine's Day yesterday, with Katie, which my Dad said was 'a bit gay.' It was better than I expected, and the bit that looked like a complete rip off of Love Actually turned out to not be, due to a suprise twist at the end. Also, I liked the fact that Anne Hathaway was in it, because she pulls off that first name of hers really well, which I find very reassuring.

Oh dear, I'm really writing a lot of bollocks on this History.

Motivation!

Oh. Wow.

I re-wrote this post about my motivation spurt this morning, which I doubt anybody read anyway, because this is far more shocking.

On normal days in which I plan to do an essay, I wake up at ten, get dressed by eleven, and then think 'well, it's too late to start the essay now.' So I waste time until lunch, and then I have a 'post lunch break' from nothing, and then at about three-thirty I start. So by six o'clock I have a thousand word essay.

Today, due to possible cosmic intervention, I got up at nine, I had coffee and got dressed, then I colour-coded my English coursework notes, and then I wrote the whole thing. At quarter past two, on the Tuesday of half term, I have actually just written my two thousand word English coursework. On a normal day for a normal essay I would not have started, and it would be due in tomorrow.

I am somewhat astonished. Where the hell did my usual procrastination go?

Tired

Kellner's was fun, and now I am mighty exhausted due to sleeping afterwards on the shorter of Katie's sofas.

I forgot to feed nextdoor's guinea pig yesterday, but my mum remembered and did it, and now I feel guilty because they're really nice people and entrusted me with the responsibility of their guinea pig. It's as bad as the time I was babysitting their son and he kept putting his feet practically in the fire until I told him to please stop.

I am very happy to have a cup of tea right now.

Eye Fail

I am officially short-sighted, according to the eye test I had today. Fortunately, I am not short-sighted enough to warrant glasses full-time, just for looking at the board in school, driving eventually and watching TV.

Apparently I also have funny-shaped eyeballs. To be honest, it feels good to be out of the denial phase where I've been ignoring the fact that I'm straining to read the board and just lying to the person next to me that I can't see because 'the light is shining on it.'

I've chosen the glasses but they're not ready yet, so I'll get them in the next few days. The picture is an approximation of how I feel I look in them (although they are rectangular) but I'll get used to them as at least they're only for looking at things long-distance.

Do you see what I did with the link to the previous title there? Quite proud of that.

iFail

My iPod appears to be nonresponsive. I plugged it into the computer via the USB port and it froze, 19 seconds into 'In My Place' by Coldplay. I don't even like that song that much, and now it is permanently frozen onto my screen. Screaming at the iPod for about five minutes has had little effect.

I am now giving it space to think about what it's doing and hopefully come round.

EDIT: Woohoo! It's working. Like an idiot I was pressing the wrong 'resuscitate a frozen iPod' buttons. What a pointless post.

Phew

Spoke to Rolo, all was good. Sigh of relief.
Also, I was home alone just now and the doorbell rang, and it was a random man...or so I thought.
Yes, that's right, it was Stephen Fry.

(It was actually Jane's Dad, and he wanted to speak to men in full time employment. We had a chat about Drama, seeing as my Dad was currently at his full time employment.)

Little slice of random from my life there.

To Be Honest

Everyone is incredibly ecstatic, and I was too, with the whole 'phew it's over, what a relief thing.' I had a great evening and was really happy afterwards.

However, over the course of today, despite the joy at actually going home in daylight and not having to rehearse, I've been feeling slightly uneasy about the entire thing, and I think I might be the only one. Everyone that I saw perform (which is everyone who did perform) was amazing and gave it their all, I was incredibly impressed. However I have literally no idea how I did. Not a clue. And I am afraid to say to anyone 'How did I do?' incase they A. Think I'm fishing for compliments or B. Say, 'Sorry, but you were terrible, we're all just too polite to mention it.'

I wrote on my yellow form 'I have no idea how I did,' in the hopes that Rolo would just give me some clue, like she did with Joe. However all I got was 'Now for the concept!' Cheers, miss. Despite all the happiness at it being over, there's a small part of me which wants to go back in time and do it again, just my two major scenes, just in case I can do it better.
Post-drama paranoia I was not expecting. I think it's a bit like post-natal depression; I regret giving birth to this drama baby.

Woo Hoo

After what was arguably the most stressful week of my life, everything appears to be oddly calming down. I was very cheerful all day, from imitating 'My Heart Will Go On' from Titanic to Narnia 'in the closet' jokes.

I'm feeling like after all the 'crap we're all doomed' of last week this week is so far a bit of an anti-climax. I may, of course, regret that tomorrow if we're all reduced to weeping nervous wrecks. But wow am I looking forward to walking home in daylight and only being in school when I need to be there for lessons.

I think, when it comes to the other subjects, my brain might be disintegrating slightly. Most of history today was spent discussing just how much Vietnam is like Avatar (Alex had the amazing realisation that Na'Vi= Native Vietnamese, the teacher agreed.) Also, today when I arrived home I had hot chocolate and two very large chocolate cookies. My excuse is that I was having Wednesday's share of chocolate today, as Drama Rule #1 states that chocolate coats our throats and makes talking difficult. I bet that's an urban myth, like saying that coca-cola affects your facial expression. Which is probably not true but BETTER NOT RISK IT.

Maybe, as I was saying earlier, this panic has gone full circle and become insanity.